


All the world's a stage

by GilgaNyan (NarryEm)



Series: DRAMAtical Murder Short Stories by EmilyY [16]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, First Dates, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:18:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3721789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryEm/pseuds/GilgaNyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba is the drama teacher at Midorijima High School and whilst his students are full of enthusiasm, none of them can act worthwhile. He asks his friend Noiz for help and he turns out to be better than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the world's a stage

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt taken from [this post](%E2%80%9D) cuz I’m trash.

They are only five minutes in to the hour and Aoba is already so close to murdering his own students.

As a drama teacher, he is used to some antics and flares but, oh man, this year’s batch of kids have zero acting talent and he has had to up to the top of his head.

 _“_ _But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?_  
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.  
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon . . .”

“Cut, cut, cut!” Aoba interjects. The kid who has been appointed to act out the infamous balcony scene is fucking reciting the lines with no emotion whatsoever and Aoba’s ears are about to fall off.

There’s only one thing left that he can do.

“I’m going to get someone to demonstrate the scene and none of you all allowed to leave. Got it?”

The class gives him identical looks of innocence and Aoba makes a mental note to check his desk upon his return.

He marches over to the teachers’ lounge and sees the familiar blond head. Noiz is the German teacher who started working at the school a couple months back and although he is the definition of stoic at most times, Aoba has seen him be affectionate during some dinners after a couple beers.

“Hey,” Noiz says, plucking out one earbud.

“I need a favour,” Aoba states.

Noiz raises an eyebrow. “And what kind of favour might this be?”

For some reason, Aoba’s cheeks heat up. “I’m trying to teach _Romeo and Juliet_ and none of them can act to save their lives. Just pretend that you’re in love with me or something so that the kids can see what it’s like.”

“Okay,” Noiz accepts easily. Too easily. “But you owe me a lunch this weekend.”

“Deal.” Two friends can have lunch together. That’s nothing weird.

The students start to whisper amongst themselves when Aoba returns with Noiz. Some of them—mostly girls—chat him up in German and Noiz seems to be bored with the attention.

“Alright, take a seat. Noiz and I will re-enact the scene and it will be your job to emulate the emotions and nuances present in it. Remember that Romeo is already head over heels in love with Juliet and that Juliet hates the fact that she is being forced to marry someone she doesn’t even like.”

Noiz picks up the script and flips through the page. “Which scene are we doing?”

“The balcony one. Act 2 Scene 2. And wipe that smirk off your face.”

Aoba stands on a desk for the effect while Noiz kneels on one knee. It’s almost like a switch has been flipped on. Noiz’s face softens and there is a believable lovesick look in his green eyes, and Aoba’s mouth goes dry for no reason.

Noiz clears his throat a couple times before he starts his lines:

“ _I_ _t is my lady. Oh, it is my love._  
Oh, that she knew she were!  
She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?  
Her eye discourses. I will answer it . . .”

“Great!” Aoba cuts him off. He has to use his class time wisely anyway. Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t quite handle the way Noiz’s eyes burned into his as he read the lines very convincingly. “Now all of you pair off and do the same, okay? I will check on the progress in about ten minutes.”

Din grows in the background as the students pair off as told and to Aoba’s surprise, Noiz stays in the classroom.

“That was quite a performance,” Aoba praises. “Very realistic.”

“Hmm,” Noiz hums. “Here’s something else.

 _“Never give all the heart, for love_  
Will hardly seem worth thinking of  
To passionate women if it seem  
Certain, and they never dream  
That it fades out from kiss to kiss;  
For everything that's lovely is  
But a brief, dreamy, kind delight. . .”

Aoba nods along to the words. “That’s nice. It’s not Shakespeare, though, is it?”

“Yeah, it’s by a poet name Yeats. He’s got some good stuff.”

“Sounds like he had his fair share of heartbreaks. Any particular reason why you recited it to me?”

Noiz flashes him a mysterious smirk. “Maybe I’m trying to prevent one.” The blond leans forwards and places his hand on Aoba’s. It’s warm and slightly rough in texture, the kind that Aoba makes curious as to what kind of lifestyle had led to it.

The statement puzzles Aoba but he dismisses it. It’s probably against the school rules to flirt with a total hottie in front of a class, no matter out outrageously flirty the other one is being.

Noiz leaves as the students start lining up for the evaluation and for the rest of the lesson, Aoba can’t get Noiz out of his mind. At the end, he pads over to the staff lounge, grateful that he has got a free period for the next hour. He hasn’t gotten a lot of sleep thanks to some renovation his neighbour is doing so maybe he can catch a quick power nap. Yeah, that sounds divine.

So he takes up the sofa in the corner and stretches out across it. Honestly, it’s not the comfiest but it will do in a pinch. He tries to arrange the cushions for maximum comfort, sets up alarm for thirty minutes, and closes his eyes.

 

 

One downside to a power nap is that it leaves Aoba feeling disoriented when he wakes up. The cheery Goatbed song does little to diminish that feeling.

As he sits up rubbing his eyes, something rustles as it falls down past his torso and to the floor. Still groggy from his sleep, he picks it up blindly. It’s a blanket, but not a make that he can find easily on the streets of Midorijima. It’s fluffy and velvety and he wonder who was kind enough to lend him it. On the corner of the table closest to him, there is a plate of fruits and a mug of coffee, from the smell of it, prepared. He also spots a small note as he stands up and approaches it.

 

_Hope you’ll like these. Noiz._

 

Is all the note reads. It’s unbearably adorable that Noiz went through the trouble to get him all this even though he must have had other things to do like prepare for his classes. Aoba waits around for Noiz to show up, finishing up the plate slowly. The coffee is perfect, sweet but not to the degree that it’s disgusting and a sugared water rather than coffee.

“Hey,” Aoba greets as Noiz walks in. For some reason, his cheeks heat up when Noiz smiles at him warmly, the first time he’s seen Noiz smile like that. He swears that his heart is beating in his throat. “Um, thank you for the, ah, stuff.”

“It was nothing,” Noiz replies coolly. “Still on for that lunch this weekend?”

Aoba beams. “Yup. You seriously saved my hide so anything.”

“Good, ‘cause I plan on thoroughly wooing you.”

The flush on Aoba’s cheeks deepen and he looks away. “How can you say that with a straight face?”

“I like you and I don’t see the point of beating around the bush. So I’ll pick you up at yours at noon on Saturday?

Aoba nods. “Okay. Oh, I guess I need to tell you where I live.”

“Don’t take it the wrong way but I hacked into the school records and found out where you live.”

It should make Aoba more wary of Noiz, it really should, but Aoba dismisses it quickly. “O-okay. So see you on Saturday?”

“See ya.”

 

 

-

 

 

It’s embarrassing but Aoba takes about twenty minutes to decide on his date outfit. Noiz has told him that the place has a casual dress code but unfortunately, most of Aoba’s closet consists of hoodies and t-shirts from Brain Nuts. He does manage to dig up a suit jacket from his own school years in a dusty corner and has to somehow match it up with a (miraculously) clean button-up and dark-coloured jeans.

He is all ready to go with a single minute to go and Noiz rings the bell right on the dot. The first thought that flows through Aoba’s mind is, ‘ _fuck_ ’. The blonde looks properly dapper in a smart blazer, simple black t-shirt and jeans combo, his hair slicked back. He looks like he could belong to a royal family, looking like that. Aoba barely sees the giant bouquet that Noiz is holding out in front of it until Noiz raises it slightly.

“Hello,” Noiz says, a smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“Hi,” Aoba answers. He takes the red tulips and orchids and scours his kitchen to find a vase for it. It takes a few minutes, which means extra time for Aoba to regain his composure.

“Do you mind walking to the restaurant?” Noiz asks, his voice sounding from right behind Aoba. In fact, he can feel Noiz’s front nearly pressed to his, arms hovering next to Aoba’s.

“Not at all. I’m assuming that it’s close by?”

“Yup.”

After the flowers have been put away, Noiz offers his hand for Aoba and he takes it rather too eagerly. Noiz doesn’t seem to mind as he leads Aoba to the restaurant. When they near it, there is no doubt in Aoba’s mind as to why it requires casual wear. The exterior and the interior exude wealth and Aoba can’t shake off the feeling that the servers are looking down on his somehow. He tugs at the stray pieces of hair that’s escaped from his ponytail as they are seated and browse through the menu.

“Don’t worry about the prices,” Noiz warns when Aoba’s jaw drops open. “I’m here to treat you so have whatever you want regardless of its price.”

“Are you sure?” A teacher’s salary can only stretch so far.

As if reading Aoba’s mind, Noiz deadpans, “My family has a bit of money and they made sure that I’ll still be able to live up to t _heir_ standards when I’m far from home.” Disdain tinged his words and Aoba wonders for a second why Noiz would sound that way.

“Then why are you here?” Aoba queries.

“Freedom from their clutches. I never wanted to take over the company they run when my old man wants to and my brother has always been better at that sorts of shit. I’m much happier here, preferably with you.” The corners of Noiz’s lips curl up into a smile and Aoba blushes (again).

“I-I’m no one special, though,” he confesses. He drops his eyes back to the menu, pretending to read through it even though he’s already decided on pasta since it’s the only he recognises on the menu.

A warm hand reached out and gently forces his head up so that Aoba has no choice but to look into Noiz’s piercing green eyes. “You’re special to me. For the months that I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you behave unfairly or punitively towards anyone, even when the student is a renowned delinquent. Frankly, you are the teacher that somehow change them for the better, not to mention that you’re always voted the best teacher in the school. I think it’s a talent, getting everyone to fall under your charm.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aoba counters. Thankfully, a server comes up to take their order. Noiz orders some wine for them and Aoba allows himself to gawp over how sexy the Italian words roll off his tongue.

“Either you’re ridiculously modest or you don’t pay attention to what people think of you,” Noiz smiles. “No matter, I think I can make you see just how adored you are around this community.”

 

The lunch is uneventful otherwise. Aoba is slightly buzzed from the two glasses of wine he has and Noiz seems to have noticed it too. On their way back to Aoba’s apartment, Noiz’s grip on Aoba’s hand is tighter and they make a quick stop at a bakery so that Noiz can buy a fruity monstrosity.

“There’s no way that we can finish that in one go,” Aoba giggle as they exit the shop.

Noiz raises a brow. “Watch me.”

And true to his word, Noiz finishes almost a third of the cake by himself at Aoba’s home. Small talk comes easy and it surprises Aoba just how warm and caring Noiz is under his layers. He smiles more than Aoba ever has in the past months that he has seen Noiz around school and it feels natural to have Noiz’s hand on his.

“You’ve got a bit of frosting there,” Noiz points out an area on his cheek. Aoba swipes at it with the back of his hand but from the way Noiz chuckles, he guesses that he missed it.

“Here,” Noiz murmurs as he leans forwards. It’s an obvious and cliché move and Aoba’s eyes slip closed on their own accord. Something warm and wet brushes his cheek before something softer presses to his lips. The lick surprised him but the kiss, well it’s really nice and Noiz definitely knows what he is doing.

Aoba loses track of time as they kiss, silently exploring each other. Noiz starts out sweet and assertive but as seconds tick by, fingers are entangling in Aoba’s hair and slowly, Aoba is being pressed to the back of the couch. Not that he minds it; really, Aoba is letting Noiz run the show with zero complaints.

It’s Noiz who pulls back first, panting lightly as he gazes into Aoba’s eyes. “We should probably leave something for the later dates,” he smirks.

Aoba mirrors the smirk. “Yeah. Probably. Want to stay over for dinner then?”

“Definitely.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The poem is by W. B. Yeats is from In the Seven Woods: Being Poems Chiefly of the Irish Heroic Age according to Google and goodreads.com


End file.
